our Arkansas Adventure

three women in their seventies travel four hours walk their feet off in largest art gallery around crystal bridges I am the baby of the group a mere seventy-two our driver is seventy-six our birthday girl is seventy-five the seventy-six-year-old is dancing around us as we limp around the night tour of a forest lit by fiber optics, with projector lights and sounds I do not remember being out this late I say it is nine-twenty-two. we look for a restaurant because we did not eat supper they all closed at nine